Color Blind
by PyroDragon2006
Summary: Sometimes local customs come back to bite. Hard. Colonel Sheppard encounters one that does so in a rather colorful manner.


Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis is not owned or in any way connected with us, nor are we receiving any profit from this story. It is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only.

Author's Note: This is in response to a writing challenge posted by Stealth Dragon at the end of Chapter 19 of Hounds of Hell (A really intriguing story if you haven't read it.).

Spoiler References to Common Ground and McKay and Mrs. Miller.

Color Blind

by the sisters Pyro

Dr. Elizabeth Weir stood watching from the balcony as three figures emerged from the event horizon of the Stargate, looking none too happy. It didn't take much to realize why when the gate promptly shut down without the fourth member of Atlantis' best team joining them on the other side and Elizabeth's heart sped up in response. What had Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard gotten himself into this time? And why was it that what were _supposed_ to be easy, straightforward missions never stayed that way when assigned to him?

Without further thought, the Atlantis leader hurried down the central staircase of the Gaterium, noting with relief that the team didn't immediately call for marines to return to the planet with them. At least until her too active imagination informed her that there might be more than one reason for such an action. It _could_ mean John didn't need rescuing... or that it was impossible to do so. Not a thought she needed when it was the team's first off-world mission since the disastrous encounter with Kolya six weeks ago. She fearfully called out to the trio before she was within easy conversational distance, not caring if the Control Room staff could hear her.

"Rodney, what happened? Where's John?" All three turned to her and she gasped when she saw the bundle of cloth held in Teyla's arms. "Why do you have John's uniform? The planet was supposed to be friendly!"

A hand quickly came up as the Canadian flushed, mouth set in a thin line. "It is. One of their people suffered some sort of minor hunting accident and the colonel rescued him. They insisted both go through some lovely primitive cleansing ceremony. We weren't allowed to stay."

Well, that accounted for the extremely dark cast to the features of the former Runner, Ronon. He hadn't been letting John get out of his sight for long lately. Not that Elizabeth liked it any better then he did. They'd come way too close to really losing John this last time. She was shocked that _anyone_ had gotten the team through the gate without their leader, though. Ronon, at the very least, should have been threatening to shoot up the place if he wasn't allowed to stay. What could they have been told, that they would actually _leave_? This whole situation just felt _wrong,_ and the diplomat couldn't help snapping.

"Couldn't you have stayed outside the village and waited for him or something?"

"We were told that it was forbidden for the cleansed to have an escort to the gate. I was assured by my contact that the ritual was perfectly safe, and the colonel insisted everything be explained to him before he participated. These people have been friends to the Athosians for generations, and John felt secure in ordering us to leave. We did not feel in a position to argue with him. The ceremony should only last about two hours." Teyla's serene features did nothing to calm the butterflies in Elizabeth's stomach.

"We should have ignored it, stayed in the forest. They'd have never known we were there." The deep rumble of Ronon died off as he brushed past the others, displaying a roughness he rarely showed his team mates as they were unceremoniously shoved from his path. "I'm going to the infirmary, then back here. If Sheppard's not back in two hours, I'm going to get him."

She'd dial the gate for him herself, if it came to that. What could have possessed John that he would order his only possible back-up away? If any of his subordinates pulled such a stupid maneuver, he'd flay them over violating safety protocols! Turning with her mind in chaos, she almost ran into the very person she was thinking of calling.

"Dr. Weir! Sorry. Where's Colonel Sheppard? I just passed Ronon in the hall and he looked like he wanted to pulverize something!"

Major Marcus Lorne, John's second-in-command, regarded the shut down gate with a wary expression. He had been off-world, unreachable, when the whole fiasco with the Genii went down and Elizabeth knew he still fumed at not being able to be included on the rescue team that went after John.

"Apparently, he stayed on the planet for a ritual of some sort and ordered the team back. I want a team standing by just in case..."

The officer didn't bother asking what for, just turned on his heels, already calmly issuing orders into his com. Just another day for a military officer stationed in an alien city in another galaxy, especially one whose superior had an appalling tendency to step into the stinky stuff on a regular basis.

Almost two hours later, a furious Dr. Elizabeth Weir stood at the balcony rail once again, about to issue the order sending an impatient Ronon and Major Lorne back to the planet to fetch their wayward colonel by any means necessary when the gate activated. Finally. Both she and the man standing next to her, Doctor Carson Beckett, Atlantis' chief medical officer, held their breath until given a nod by the gate tech. John's IDC. Relief rushed through her as she unclenched her hands, glancing ruefully at the now crushed report Carson had just rushed up here with. It was the results of the team's blood tests, showing all three had some sort of drug in their system that altered their brain chemistry, heightening their suggestibility. It certainly explained their actions on leaving the planet, though John's reasoning remained to be seen. For once, she just wanted an alien planet to be as innocent and peaceful as it pretended to be. At her side, she could hear Carson muttering worriedly.

"Come on, lad, where are you... What the bloody hell were you thinkin', stayin' without your team..."

A massive sigh of relief went through the Gaterium as the familiar figure swaggered through the wormhole...and turned to a gasp of shock as everyone got their first good look at the Atlantis military commander. He was completely naked except for a loincloth and grass sandals on his feet, but Elizabeth had been expecting _that_ since Teyla had brought the man's uniform and gear back with her. What she hadn't expected was to see his body a dark purple bordering on black from head to toe except for a weird spot of lighter green on his torso. With John's black hair, the effect was rather frightening, especially as his hazel eyes flashed with some undefined emotion.

"Bloody hell!"

The fervent exclamation from beside her matched her mood exactly and both of them moved rapidly toward the stairs. Even as they headed down them, though, things took a turn for the weird. Or as weird as one could get on Atlantis.

John started to change color.

It started at his torso, which rapidly lightened to lime green, then yellow-green, yellow, light orange, orange, red, and finally stabilized at a peachy-red-white. The effects then slowly rippled out toward his limbs, making the colonel resemble some type of walking rainbow as he cycled through the entire color wheel, starting with that disturbingly frost-bite purple-black. As they approached him, all of his extremities finished their color cycle at red-orange, though his face showed the same peach as his chest, with two bright white spots on either cheek. He actually appeared to be shuffling from foot to foot as if he were a child sent to the principals office.

"I...uh...I know this must look pretty..."

Dr. Rodney McKay, shifting almost as restlessly as John was as he confronted the colorful colonel with the rest of his team, Elizabeth, and Carson, couldn't stay silent any more.

"Demented? Insane? Crazy? Like a cuckoo colonel? Any of those the words you were looking for?"

The others had to silently agreewith the scientist as he harshly interrupted the hesitant military man. John didn't seem to be in any pain so none of them felt constrained to hide the two hours of anxiety he'd just put them through. Not to mention the initial fear of his appearance.

One bright hand came up as his face paled a shade further toward white. No human body should _ever _be that color, Elizabeth concluded. The effect was...freakish.

"Okay, McKay, I get the picture. I'm _fine_. It was a nice short scrubbing of the spirit kind of thing, that's all."

Carson wasn't about to let it rest there, still more concerned then angry. "And the your rather bright appearance, son? I can bloody well see every minute change in your body temperature!"

He was right, Elizabeth realized with a start, that _was _what this reminded her of! Infrared! The core of his body would always be the warmest spot, hence the lighter color, and they all knew first hand how cold gate travel could be, which would explain the dark hues when he came through! And now... Embarrassment? Probably. She certainly would be feeling that, so she couldn't imagine how it must feel for her military commander. The man was easy-going to the point of seeming half his age occasionally, but never on duty. No, his mandate to protect Atlantis and everyone who lived there was taken very seriously indeed, so to return like this in front of his men...

His head ducked restlessly, showing orange-red scalp peeking through the spiky black hair.

"It's some sort of chemical they use as part of the cleansing, forces you to acknowledge your emotions by clearly showing them to everyone through the color changes. Body heat. You know, like a-"

Once again, Rodney beat them all to it, face lighting up in shocked delight. "A mood ring! Sheppard's a _walking mood ring_!"

John's face turned completely white at that. "Damn it, McKay, you don't have to tell the whole city!"

"Right! Like nobody'll notice the psychedelic colonel walking down the hall!"

The astrophysicist grinned, then doubled over in laughter at the disgruntled expression his friend wore. Elizabeth couldn't help the smile that tugged at her own lips at the thought of the cheesy little color-changing pieces of jewelry. The things had been the rage in the 1970's and early 80's when she was growing up, knots of girls at school sitting around examining them and debating what each color change might mean, especially when it occurred in proximity to any cute boys. John heaved a put-upon sigh.

"Yeah, very funny. Damn stuffs supposed to metabolize in about five to seven days if I got the conversion between their length of days and ours correct. They said there weren't any side effects, but I know you'll want to check everything anyway, Carson, so let's get this over with. I think there's plenty of paperwork I can catch up on for a week in my office. With the door locked. Alone with my pretty self."

That did it. None of them could contain the laughter at the dry comment. Even John's mouth was twitching suspiciously as he patiently waited through the outburst from his friends. Finally, with a disgusted harrumph, he turned on his heel and headed for the infirmary alone, hearing his friends abruptly begin hurrying along behind, choking back their laughter. This would be one _long _week for Atlantis' second-in-command, but all in all, they could all think of a lot worse things than the jokes the man would be forced to endure.

Two days, and the thing was a lot less funny, at least to John. The few jokes that _were _worth a laugh had been repeated endlessly and the ones that weren't... Well, those were getting worse every day. He shivered as he leaned against the railing on one of the more isolated Atlantis balconies, wishing he'd brought a blanket from his room, but not willing to risk the halls to fetch one even this late at night. This was one of the few places he'd found to be alone since this whole mess started. Even being in his office required _some _interaction with other staff, though in that case it was mostly military officers who'd been threatened with disciplinary action by Lorne if he found out they so much as _looked_ at their CO funny. Not that his team leaders were likely to at the moment, anyway, since there were too many stories of their own brushes with crazy off-world rituals that could be brought up. After time, this one would go down in the lore as well, to be laughed at and waved in the faces of the newbies as reasons for watching your step, even when you think you know what you are getting into. For the present, though, John just wished he could find a nice deserted planet to live on until the stuff wore off. Not to mention it would allow him to put off his current problem.

Elizabeth had given him a few days, but she needed his mission report and he really didn't know what he would write. She hadn't been very pleased with the fact that he had sent his team home, and even he had to admit that it might not have been such a wise move, but he also hadn't been willing to chance offending the locals. Atlantis frankly couldn't afford to gain more enemies at the moment, not with Kolya, the Wraith, and the human form Replicators all after their heads. So, he had consented to the ritual, though he hadn't thought they were being literal when they said his body would show all that he felt. The stupid stuff was sensitive, too, since body temperature didn't change all _that _much with the ebb and flow of emotions, yet they were being shown in disconcerting technocolor. Occasionally right down to where his veins were running through his body, especially when he got cold.

Suddenly, a warm blanket settled around his shoulders as two forms joined him in the darkness.

"John? Could you not sleep tonight?"

He felt a smile tugging at his lips. Teyla and Ronon, taking care of him as they had for the last six weeks, including pointedly ignoring his colorful current condition. They'd kept him occupied, easing him back into life on Atlantis while McKay was busy with his sister and their project, making sure he ate, slept... Even found a reason to laugh again. It hadn't really been fair to Rodney, making his childhood escapades the source of their laughter, but his friend had later confessed he hadn't been quite as angry as he'd pretended to be when he saw John actually relaxed and smiling. Say what you would about Doctor Meredith Rodney McKay, John knew how lucky he was to have such a friend. Even if he was contemplating damaging the man for a rather embarrassing photo currently making the rounds in the city. A hand gently rubbing his back brought his mind back to the present and he realized he'd never answered his team mate.

"I'm okay, just... Bad dreams again. Plus Elizabeth wants the report on the last mission in the morning and I have a few things I have to think out. The ritual was...confidential. It really wouldn't be fair to that poor kid I rescued to have his ordeal filed away for everyone to read, even if he'll never know it."

"So don't put it in. Just say you were in the ritual."

The large shadow that was Ronon shrugged and John winced, glad the darkness would hide his otherwise all too obvious reaction to the simple wisdom. Why hadn't _he _thought of that? Stargate Command wouldn't be able to question it since their own regulations preached respect for off-world religious customs. They didn't need to know it wasn't actually secret, that John was hiding behind the rules so he didn't have to include a young man's feelings at being trapped for hours at the bottom of a cliff until the colonel and a fellow hunter came along. Or... His mind shied away from those thoughts hard, another shudder shaking his slim frame. He wouldn't think about that, since the images may not have been real. It was hard for him to distinguish what actually happened on the planet with the nightmarish images brought up by the damn ritual.

"Come. We shall walk you to your room. You need rest and time, John."

A deep sigh. "I know, Teyla. Thanks, both of you. I'm good, or at least I will be as soon as the...um, 'color' jokes stop. I feel like someone out of _Pleasantville_."

"I... do not understand."

Stupid, John. When would he ever learn to watch the popular culture references around his team?

"Nothing. A movie I'll see if the _Daedalus_ library has a copy of the next time they come. Let's get inside before Rodney shows up and starts asking me if I'm blue or seeing if he can find an Ancient gadget that lights up to the same hue I am at the moment."

"Which even had you laughing."

John could hear the smile in Ronon's voice at the memory, and felt his own mood lifting a little in response. The look on the astrophysicist's face when he turned around and saw what was happening _had _been pretty hilarious. Both John and the gadget had been a beautiful lemon yellow.

The whole staying in the office thing sounded great for the colonel in theory, Elizabeth reflected a day later, but they all should have known it could never actually work that way. At the moment, he was sitting across from her at the briefing table for a meeting of the department heads. Unfortunately, the current lime green hue of his face didn't match well with the gray and black Atlantis uniform, not to mention the oranges of the briefing room itself. It wasn't helping that when people looked at him, they either laughed, made a bad joke, or hurriedly left his vicinity. People just weren't meant to be so colorful, and when he reacted by becoming embarrassed, well... There was a reason she'd heard muttered comments about 'Colonel Color Crayons'. At the moment, his bright blue hands twisted nervously on the table while they waited for the others to arrive.

Carson had done extensive testing on his blood, leading to complaints about vampire doctors and turning white from lack of said liquid. Those tests, however, had all come back showing exactly what John had told them- a chemical that was stored in the lower tissues just beneath the outer epidermal layer, releasing different compounds in response to the heat of that part of his body, causing it to harmlessly change color. Embarrassing, annoying, but not exactly life threatening in any way.

In view of that, and John's very sparse mission report, Elizabeth had chosen not to ban further contact with the planet, but _had _put a warning in for any future teams. She still wasn't too pleased that some of her people had been unknowingly drugged while there, and John had been livid when _he_ was finally told. She'd also resisted the urge to put in a copy of the digital photograph someone had taken just as John walked in off one of Atlantis' balconies on a cold night. She suspected Rodney or Radek, which had the colonel hunting both scientists looking for proof so that he could toss the culprit off the East Pier. Not that Elizabeth would blame him if he actually did even as she herself hid a copy of the photo within carefully layered files on her desk top. Too bad no one in the gate room had a camera when he had actually returned! For purely documentary reasons, of course. After all, the use of such a drug was a rather fascinating aspect of the local culture.

Elizabeth glanced back up at her friend as Rodney and Carson came into the room, just in time to see John morphing between a puse green and a rotten orange as he continued to silently stare at his hands. Rodney stopped dead in his tracks, mouth dropping in shock, then twisting to distaste.

"Do you think that you could at least manage a color that doesn't look like you rolled in someone's vomit? I mean, really, how are we supposed to seriously discuss anything with Colonel Chameleon over there?" Before any of them could respond sharply to the tactless comments, which John seemed not to even hear, the astrophysicist blanched. "You're not really sick, are you? You're looking pretty green. Literally. Carson, did you bring your medical kit, 'cause I think some voodoo to counteract the alien return-to-nature thing might be in order here."

Elizabeth glared at Rodney, then took a moment to truly examine the oblivious object of the scientist's annoyance. He really _wasn't_ looking that good, and not just because of the horrible color. The colonel had become increasingly distracted and irritable the last few days, even yelling at Teyla, but Elizabeth had put it down to his being stuck on base again so soon in such a... _colorful_ situation. Things had changed, though, and it was Rodney, of all people, who was paying attention. John _wasn't _displaying the bright primaries anymore. Even the current blue of his hands was more of a blue-gray, not very healthy looking. When had _that_ happened?

"Colonel, is that true? Are you feelin' poorly?"

No response to the physician, which had Elizabeth up out of her chair in alarm to stand by his, hesitantly touching him on the arm.

"John? Are you all right? Colonel Sheppard!"

The woman shook his shoulder a little more insistently, trying not to be distracted by the ear near her that went from green at the bottom to an almost plum purple at the top. The figure under her hand shuddered slightly, his face plunging rapidly toward the cooler hues, then he slowly started to move. It was almost like watching a slow motion replay as the officer slid from his chair like a large blue slushy, eyes rolling until they were only two white spots that stood out against the appalling shade of his face. Elizabeth grabbed at him, trying to keep him from completing the maneuver, eyes wide in shock. Carson dove to the floor to cushion the man's head, keeping it from cracking open as the Atlantis leader lost her battle with the dead weight, hands flying off to send her back into John's chair, rolling backward several feet with the abrupt momentum. Vaguely, she heard Rodney yelling for more medical personnel over the com while she silently cursed out herself, John, the world he'd gone to, his team for leaving him, everyone who had anything to do with this suddenly not so funny mess. In at least twelve different languages. What the hell had happened to John on that planet?

An hour later, she still didn't have any answers, waiting on Carson about John and Major Lorne to report in from the planet about the ritual. Though if it _was _a type of religious ceremony as John had indicated in his report, that might not work so well. So she was forced to content herself with pacing anxiously in the small waiting room outside the infirmary, made even smaller by the equally agitated movements of Rodney McKay. Teyla, at least, was content to sit in a chair, head down, while Ronon leaned against the wall next to her. Finally, Rodney rounded on them all, letting loose with the eruption they had all felt building.

"Why are we sitting around here like a bunch of brain-dead morons? There must be _something_ we can do! What the hell was he _thinking_, ordering us to leave like that? What were _we _thinking by actually listening to him? We all know that he has a stubborn streak a mile wide! So _stupid_-"

"Rodney-"

"Don't interrupt my ranting, Teyla, I'm just getting warmed up!"

"McKay! How's Sheppard, doc?"

Ronon's deep rumble snapped the scientist's head around to glare at the entrance even as Elizabeth jumped in startlement at the hand on her shoulder. Turning, she found Carson behind her, giving an apologetic wan smile.

"Sorry about that, love. Didn't mean to scare you like that."

She blinked, collecting scattered wits, then shook her head reassuringly.

"I'm fine. How's John? Do you know what happened?"

His hesitation made her heart sink.

"Let's sit, all of you. He's asleep at the moment so you wouldn't be able to see him anyway."

Oh, not good at all. Carson had the sympathetic 'I'm sorry to inform you...' look in his eyes. Knowing better then to resist his quiet 'suggestion', they all sank down, even Ronon, who looked about ready to tear someone in half. Elizabeth just wished she had a target she could point him at. Maybe herself for not overriding John's orders and immediately sending his team back to that planet to get him. Rodney voiced the question all of them dreaded.

"He's going to be all right, right? I mean, you'll fix him somehow."

Pursing his lips unhappily, Carson ducked his head.

"I spoke with the colonel a bit more about this drug and the ritual he went through before he lost consciousness again. Apparently, there was a mite more to it then he bothered to tell us. The chemical is used to allow a person to feel and come to terms with the emotions associated with a very traumatic event by showing what they are feeling through color changes corresponding with alterations in body heat. Its turned his whole body into one bloody sensitive infrared. I suspect that's so those around the ones undergoing the ritual can read and help them work through the trauma, which they did, according to John. He was a part of it because he was the rescuer, mostly watching. Unfortunately, the drug had an element he didn't share with me because he thought it had worn off by the time he returned."

Elizabeth grimaced, seeing her own unease echoed in the eyes of the others. Softly, she articulated the rhetorical question she was certain was in all their minds.

"Why do I get a bad feeling about this?"

"Aye. During the ritual, the chemicals released act as a hallucinogen, bringing up trauma and forcin' the person to relive it, see the feelings, release them. Except our colonel isn't very good at lettin' things go."

"No, he buries them and woe be it to anyone stupid enough to try digging them up. He makes a mime seem talkative." Sarcasm laced Rodney's words, though Elizabeth thought she heard just the slightest hint of sadness underneath. "Mr. _I'm fine, let's forget it ever happened_ Sheppard."

"Aye, Rodney, that's him all right. From the scans and blood tests, it appears that as the drug began leeching its way from the body today, it turned slightly toxic. I'm guessin' from the careful watch they keep on those in the ritual that they know it happens and keep them at a fairly even emotional keel until the stuff _slowly_ leaves. Colonel Sheppard, though..."

"Has been all over the emotional map, despite constantly telling all of us he's fine."

"Exactly, Elizabeth. So instead of a slow, steady release with a fairly constant body temperature, he started receivin' massive doses with every run of the rainbow his body went through. The natives probably see the color changes and can intervene before it becomes life threatening. Which it is for the colonel."

Dropping her head onto her hands, Elizabeth moaned. How was it that _every _time these messes happened to _John_? Did the man somehow offend the universe? Slowly, she stood, forcing suddenly shaky legs to support her.

"I'm hopin' they have somethin' to counteract the drug just in case something like this _does_ happen. I need you to-"

Gently, she stopped him with a reassuring hand on his arm.

"I already sent Major Lorne's team. They left about half an hour ago. Just how bad _is_ John?"

"The toxin's makin' him mighty sick. High fever, delirium, violent vomiting, an' I don't dare use drugs to alleviate the symptoms because they bloody well could react with this mess, making him _worse._

"May we not see him? Our presence has calmed him in the past."

Teyla fixed the doctor with a pleading look and Elizabeth held her breath, waiting for Carson's response. The thought of John lying alone in such a dreadful condition sent a shaft of cold down her spine. At least if they sat with him, it felt like they were doing _something_. The physician's expression softened as he met the eyes of each in turn.

"Aye, it might at that. Just be ready, we have him down to his skivvies doing cold compresses for the fever an' he's turnin' some bloody ugly colors."

"But... he was fine a few hours ago! How the hell did this hit him so fast!"

Rodney's body had stiffened, and they all recognized the signs after several years of living and working with the high strung man. The genius didn't take well to feeling helpless, especially when it was probably the closest friend he's ever had that he was unable to aid. Consequently, he was lashing out at anyone or anything he could. The Scot winced at the other man's tone, but didn't rebuke him.

"The colonel hasn't been eatin' or sleepin' well since... his kidnapping. Not to mention the strain on his body of what the Wraith did. He's vulnerable right now, his immune system compromised, so when the drug hit his blood stream, it was as if a group of people began pummelin' him. You can defend against one, but multiple attackers overwhelm you fast."

As he explained, Carson led them to one of the small isolation rooms in the back of Atlantis' medical facility. Inside, John was laying on the bed, a light sheet covering him to the waist, but the rest exposed as a nurse carefully wiped him down with a cloth. The chemical had turned his skin a dirty dish-rag white, indicating just how high his fever was. Everywhere the cloth went, it left a trail of slightly cooler orange-yellow for just a few moments before the heat returned. At strategic points, cold packs sat against him, and those were surrounded by the appalling puse green shade his face had been earlier. He was unconscious, but shifting around restlessly, thrashing in pain and delirium, driving home just how helpless they were to do anything to really help him.

John knew something was very wrong by the alarm in the voices of the people around him, but he couldn't quite force himself awake enough to find out what. It just didn't seem that important at the moment. He was so hot, uncomfortable, and so very, very tired... Besides, if he let them know he was awake, Beckett would ask about that damn planet again, and John wouldn't have any more answers to give him.

Because the truth was he couldn't remember everything that had gone on there, and what he could recall, he wasn't certain was real. Some of it, like the Wraith bending to feed and his chopper taking small arms fire over the desert, he _knew_ were memories, no matter how real they'd seemed in that blasted hut. Others... He just couldn't be sure. Even the rescue of the young man who'd fallen down the cliff was hazy in parts. There was something else... Nope, slipped away before he could grasp it. Oh, well.

Hands lifting him! What were they doing? He just wanted to sleep, that was all! For once, he wasn't trying to convince the doc to let him out of the infirmary early because he felt fine and they wouldn't leave him alone! He could feel thick, warm blankets being wrapped around him, then he was sitting. A wheelchair? That peaked his interest enough to force open eyelids with twenty pound weights on them just as he heard a very familiar whoosh. The gate, shimmering blue in front of him. He'd been that color the other day. It was actually rather nice... A voice in his ear with a distinctive Scottish brogue as his team carefully surrounded him. Shouldn't he have his gear?

"Its alright, colonel, just relax. We're takin' you back to the planet to get the antidote for this bloody drug and you'll be right as rain. Just enjoy the ride and let me do the drivin'."

The drug that made him imitate a rainbow? That's why he felt like someone had run him down with a steamroller? The stuff wasn't supposed to have any ill effects! Before he could ask any questions, they were through the horizon and into the wildest gate ride John had taken yet. Instead of the impression of blue he always got, though, he saw shades of gray, colorless, somehow menacing. Then...

He was on the yellow grass, someone carefully supporting him as he vomited out whatever he'd eaten lately. What had that been, anyway? Didn't matter...

"Oh, great. Now he _looks _the shade he's spewing! That's just wrong on so many levels I can't begin to describe it! We told you people what was wrong, now why don't you help Carson fix it?"

Somewhere, John found the outrage to growl at his friend, the scientist's voice as grating on his nerves right now as the words themselves.

"Shud up, Maa..Kay..."

Well, so it was more like a slurring at the pesky man. It seemed to be effective, though. A new voice, a vaguely familiar woman, joined the mix as John felt his face gently washed off and a cup of cool water was held to his lips.

"You are the healer of Colonel Sheppard's people?"

"Yes, love. And you are?"

"I am Tawn'a. I am the healer for this village. How long has he shown the sickening shades?"

"I'm not really sure, but at least several hours."

"We must hurry, then. Please, bring him into the cleansing hut while I retrieve the herbs I need. I will not be long. Do not let him move around much or speak."

No problems there. John felt like a piece of overcooked noodle as hands once again lifted him to the chair and it was rolled forward. Through the fog, he saw the outline of the familiar hut and... Cold rushed through him at the sight of two mounds of rock close by, causing his body to shake so hard his teeth began to rattle.

"Oh, that's way beyond not good. His face is almost black, Carson, and I think he may rattle himself right out of the wheelchair."

"Then get the door to the hut open, McKay!"

Things really started to get disjointed after that, though he did remember singing, and something very cold forced down his throat that tasted like lemons. Something was being rubbed on his body, too. What...? Darkness, safe, inviting, calming, restful.

John woke slowly, hearing the distinctive buzz of McKay snoring first. He was covered in a rough infirmary blanket, but the bed he was laying on was much too comfortable. Exactly where was he at the moment? The last thing he remembered was waiting in the briefing room for a meeting, trying not to meet Elizabeth's eyes so she wouldn't try probing further into his admittedly sketchy mission report. Well, this obviously wasn't the Atlantis conference room, so _what _had happened in the meantime and how had he gotten _here?_ Wherever here was. Might help if he opened his eyes.

A rough roof made of wood and strong tree branches arched over his head, leaving him _really _confused. Rolling carefully, he noted with relief that he didn't feel that badly, just really, really tired, and...

His hand!

Holding it out in front of him, he stared at it, fascinated, gently rubbing at it to make sure it wasn't some sort of dye. It was a nice, healthy, perfectly normal peachy skin tone. Carefully, he left it hanging from the warm cocoon of the covering blankets as his eyes scanned the room. If it got cold and stayed the same, then he might believe what he'd seen. On the floor nearby, wrapped in several blankets of his own, was the source of the snoring himself, mouth hanging open with just the faintest bit of drool coming from it.

"Gross, McKay..." John whispered softly, noting that the form didn't stir.

Beyond Rodney was a small fire pit, the embers showing just the faintest remnants of red. Must be why it was so chilly in here, the scientist had fallen asleep and let the thing go out. Just to the left of the glowing embers was the door, a bar of sunlight peeking through the crack at the bottom. Time to get up, then. He could do that.

Slowly, head spinning just a little at the movement, he sat up, noting that he was dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt, not his normal off-world attire. What was going on around here, anyway? Wait, he _did _recognize this room! They were inside the healer's cleansing hut on the planet where this whole thing had started! As his memory kicked fully to life, he hastily pulled on his boots, which had been sitting nearby. He had to know if what he'd seen was real or just an ugly hallucination. With a start, John stared at his hands again, noting with almost dizzying relief that they once again had stayed the same, normal, 100 John Sheppard color. No more mood ring, hallelujah!

Creeping past his noisy friend, he quietly eased the door open, blinking against the bright change in light. A hand landed on his shoulder before he could force his eyes to adjust enough to see clearly.

"What are _you _doin' up and around, lad? I thought Rodney was going to come and get me when you woke!"

Carson. The quick identification and John's own slightly slowed reflexes saved the doctor from meeting the ground rather forcefully.

"Word of advice, doc. Don't ever come up on a soldier like that when we're in the field. It can get you killed. As for Rodney, he's in there sound asleep and drooling. I wish I had a camera. What're we doing back on the planet?"

At John's puzzled question, he saw concern flash through the Scot's eyes. The man gently took his arm and steered him toward the side of the hut, where John remembered a bench everyone had used to disrobe before the ceremony. Sure enough, it was there, and Carson gently pressed him down onto it, silently checking John's vitals while the officer fidgeted.

"Come on, doc, I'm fine, just a little tired and weak. Look, I'm even a nice, normal human color again. What's going on?"

Finally, the physician sighed and sat down next to him with a reassuring smile.

"Aye, you are fine, but I want you to take it easy for a few days, colonel. We almost lost you. Turns out the chemical that turned you colors also released a toxin into your blood stream and we had to return here for an antidote. We were bloody lucky there was one and the healer here, a lovely lass named Tawn'a, had some to hand. Apparently, they try not to use it unless the toxic build up becomes extreme because the plant that grows it is so rare."

John felt his stomach roll and pitch at the words, eyes drawn to the two stone cairns about ten feet away.

"I know, doc. Its what the young man's sister was trying to harvest when she fell down the cliff."

"I thought it was a lad you'd saved, colonel."

His head fell back to rest against the rough outer wall of the hut. John didn't really want to talk about this, but somehow he felt as if Carson needed to know, to understand what had made John take such risks here.

"It was. He was out hunting with his twin sister and they both fell. Poor kid was trapped a few feet away, leg and arm pinned under debris, while his sister bled to death in front of him. Kao'ld and I got there just before she died. There wasn't a damn thing we could do."

Silence, punctuated by a sad sigh from the Scot. John felt tears prick his eyelids and he blinked them quickly away. He wouldn't break down, not now and not here. Maybe when he got back to Atlantis he would take the time to mourn properly, alone, for everything that had happened lately. So much pain...

"I hope the ceremony helped the young lad, then. Its hard to lose someone normally, but to have it happen like that... Aye, I can see why you felt the need to stay and do what you could for him, and I think you should tell Elizabeth when we get back to Atlantis. It might make her a bit more understanding. Where's the young man now? Did you want to see him before I round everyone up to leave? I'd like to get you back to Atlantis for some scans and... What is it, son?"

Carson's tone had become even more gentle as he noted the pain flit across John's face at the mention of seeing the boy he'd rescued. How John wished it had been a dream, just another awful nightmare to add to his collection...

"You know the ceremony is supposed to wash the trauma away by making you relive it, deal with it..." He swallowed hard, finally allowing misty hazel eyes to meet those of his friend and finding concerned puzzlement there. "He didn't know how to do it, Carson. I... I couldn't... None of us were close enough. We couldn't stop him."

John let the tears fall this time, for what he had witnessed, for two young lives gone right in front of him, for all the ugly, hopeless situations this galaxy seemed to have. Shakily, he pointed at the two mounds of stone, cold and gray, colorless.

"You asked if I wanted to see him. He's right here."

The End.

A/N- Okay now that we've answered Stealth Dragon's challenge we have one for you all. Write a ghost story that takes place on Atlantis sometime during the series, any season. It can be spooky or funny, any length and there must be a plausible supernatural or scientific explanation for everything that happens. It must include the following: As many cliché's as possible, Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon, Rodney McKay, Elizabeth Weir, Carson Beckett, Radek Zelenka, Colonel Jack O'Neill, and Colonel Marshal Sumner. Also the first sentence of the story cannot be 'It was a dark and stormy night'. Feel free to use it elsewhere in the story though. We're also working on a story that fits this challenge so we can't wait to see what you guys come up with.


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